


The Only One That Matters

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Complete, F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder takes Scully to the opera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only One That Matters

_If you were any kind of gentleman, you would have offered to bring her yourself, so she wouldn’t have to deal with the rain._  He thinks, standing inside of the lobby and glancing to the door again. The show would start in another 15 minutes, but they still had to get to their seats, and she still hasn’t shown up yet. Another minute crawls by, and his heart sinks, because she isn’t going to show. He feels this. Feeling rejected, he turns to give his tickets away, when he hears her voice calling him.  
  
"Mulder! Here I am!" He turns when his name is called, and he can’t help but smile when he sees her. Her hair is curled into ringlets and set back by a headband that has a black bow in it to match her dress, which is a mid-length dress that stops just above her knee. She has a clasp purse with her, and a shawl draped over her shoulders,  but she doesn’t look wet or upset with him. She makes her way over to him, smiling with enthusiasm.  
  
"You look—"  _Incredible. Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning. Like the setting sun on a cold winter afternoon._  “You look really good.”  
  
 _Really good? Of all the things you could have said, you tell her she looks really good?_

It’s a mediocre response. He knows she had been expecting more because she gives him a slightly disappointed smile.  
  
"Thank you! You don’t look so bad yourself. Actually," She says, reaching to fix his tie, "I think you look very dashing. Do you have the tickets?" She is honest with him and now he regrets telling her she looks really good because food is ‘really good’, and sex he had with Phoebe is ‘great’, but the way Scully looks is amazing and she deserves to know this. Out of her clumsy shoulder padded pant-suits, and the A-line skirts, the normally bookish Scully actually had really nice figure which was accented by her form fitting dress.  
  
"Yes, right here," He says, removing them from the inside of his jacket. He hands her the ticket that belongs to her and keeps his in his hand. "The show’s going to start soon, so let’s get going."  
  
"Alright." She says, walking ahead of him. He is expecting her to take his arm but he remembers that this is not a date; at least not with Scully, it isn’t. Originally, it was a date, with him and a girl that happened to be one of the lab technicians at work. It was a mutual friend of his and Scully’s, who cancelled at the last minute. Not wanting to lose the money he paid, he called up Scully who agreed to come with him.  
  
He follows after her, displaying his ticket when asked and navigating his way to their seats. Scully sits first, and then he sits, and she glances at him excitedly because the seats are amazing, and she has never been to an opera before. It is not his first time to an opera, and attending one is not something he enjoys.  
  
"How did you get these seats? They’re fantastic!" She says, resting a hand on his forearm and squeezing it slightly. He feels a tug on his heart  strings and answers sheepishly,  
  
"It was a favor from a friend I helped a couple years back. I really wanted to impress Donna," Mulder says, gauging his partner’s reaction. Her expression does not change. "Donna thinks I’m a dog, and really wanted to be wowed."  
  
"That’s wonderful," She says, and she means it. "Not that she thinks that you are a dog, but that you were able to get such good sets. I’m sorry she couldn’t come, but I am so very grateful that you invited me. I’ve never been to an opera before, but I’m excited to be here with you, because we don’t ever really spend any time together outside of work." He chuckles slightly at her words, glancing down at his feet because he preferred her company than that of Donna’s. Her tone is sincere, and it bothers Mulder because no one is ever quite so sincere with him anymore.  
  
"I promise we won’t talk shop tonight," He says and she glances up at him. Even the look in her eyes tell of her sincerity. "Unless you want to."  
  
"I don’t mind either way." She says cryptically, and she settles back into her seat because the show is starting and she wants to enjoy the whole thing.

  
When the show goes to intermission, she excuses herself to the bathroom, and Mulder is left to his own devices, taking the opportunity to stand and stretch. He is bored—not obviously so, but enough to consider flicking wads of paper from where he is sitting. His mind wonders on what they will do next, when he remembers, this is not a date. She comes back with a slightly playful smirk, and when she is sitting, he sits, and leans in conspiratorially because he knows she is going to share something. She does not, playfully pushing him away, and he moves away from her, tugging at the ends of his sleeve.  
  
"Did you want to go eat after this?" He asks her, remembering they are not on a date. She looks at him incredulously, and he thinks she will decline, so preemptively, he says, "Never mind. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just going to get something to eat and thought maybe you wanted to come too."  
  
"Mulder, I would love to. You sure this isn’t a date? First a show and then dinner? Is that even allowed by the bureau?"  
  
"We aren’t on assignment, so yes. You and I are okay. Besides, it’s not a date. It just happens to be a dinner that I don’t mind paying for. If we talk shop, then it can be a business dinner."

"Are you sure?" She asks, unsure of what to make of his generosity. They haven’t been partners very long, but every day she learns something new about him, that keeps her guessing; she likes that.

"Yeah." Mulder says, shifting in his seat to be more comfortable as the curtains raised. She looks a little troubled over this, but she returns her attention to the stage.

 

When the show ends, Scully walks just slightly ahead of Mulder, and recites all the things she enjoys about the opera. He watches the ringlets in her hair bounce and wonders how long she spent getting ready even though it isn’t a date. He is relieved that the opera is over but happy that she hasn’t complained yet. She stops and twirls to face him, smiling warmly because she is enjoying herself. He has to remind himself again that this is not a date, even though he wants to kiss her. He holds out his arm, and she takes it, reluctantly, because she doesn’t want to get too attached.

"Do you ever think about space?" He asks when they are outside, waiting for valet to bring the car around.

"Mulder, you said we wouldn’t talk shop." She scolds, looking up at him. He isn’t looking at her though. She sighs and obliges him.

"Not as often as I suspect you do. The truth is, I don’t like it. There is so much uncertainty when it comes to space, practically all scientific caution can be thrown to the wind when it comes to space travel and yes, even the existence of extraterrestrial life. It scares me, actually." She says this quietly, and he looks at her. He opens his mouth to speak, but she pulls away from him when the car comes over and gets into the passenger’s side quickly to avoid getting wet. With a resigned smile, he tips the valet worker and heads to the driver’s seat. He had planned to take Donna to a fancy restaurant but he is with Scully now and he doesn’t want to seem too comfortable with her.

 

"Where did you want to go eat?" He asks, and she looks over her shoulder at him because she is leaning forward to look out the window at something.

"Oh, uh…" She sits back and looks over at him, putting her seat belt on. "Mulder, I know you probably had somewhere really nice in mind, but could we just go to the diner you took me to a couple weeks ago?"  
  
He isn’t sure what to say because he  _had_  wanted to take her somewhere nice. “You mean that greasy spoon by Mercy General or that other place over in Georgetown?”  
  
"Either one is fine." She says quietly, and he can tell something is on her mind. He begins to drive after putting on his seat belt, and for a couple of minutes, it’s silent.

"Are you okay, Scully?" He asks, and she draws the shawl about her shoulders a little tighter.

"I’m okay, I was just thinking—hoping, really—that this… whatever we’re doing right now doesn’t change anything between us. You’re really nice, Mulder, and a much better date than Robert was, but I know you like Donna, and I don’t want her to think there’s anything going on between us." 

Mulder doesn’t know how to feel. Part of him wants to shrug it off and agree, but a little part of him, perhaps the part of him that still misses Samantha, is hurt. The hurt look on his face is fleeting, but she must have seen it because she says, 

"Oh Mulder, what’s wrong?"

"Oh, that last act gave me a headache," He starts to say, but he takes a moment to glance at her to show he had heard what she said moments prior. "You don’t have to worry about this meaning anything, you were just the option that was convenient. Everyone else I knew was busy having a life." His tone is indifferent, but not cold.

"Oh," She says quietly, in a deflated way. She tries to smile, but it is wavering, sad smile. "Well, I’m glad I could help. Um, you know… I’m not really that hungry. I think I’d like to go home. I had a wonderful time, Mulder. Thank you, I really appreciate it."

He pulls over, and kills the engine. They are outside of the diner, but Scully does not make a motion to leave. Neither does he.

"I want to go home, Mulder." She says, without looking at him. Her voice is shaky, and he can tell she is hurt.

"I didn’t mean it like that." He says, but he isn’t looking at her. She doesn’t look at him. He continues, "I—look, Scully. I didn’t—I don’t give a shit about Donna, okay? Donna is boring, she thinks I’m crazy, like everyone else. I only wanted to prove to her and everyone that I’m not…"

"Why does it matter? It never mattered before." Her voice is small, but she is finally looking over at Mulder, and he glances at her, a little taken back because he realizes that he does not know why it matters to him.

"Well, what do you think? I guess right now, that’s the only opinion that matters since you’re stuck with me." He says, and she smiles a little because this is true.

"What do I think? Do you mean, do I think you’re crazy?"

_She’s tap dancing. Christ, she thinks I’m crazy, too._

"Yes, do you think I’m spooky, like everyone says?"

"I’ve already told you that I don’t think you’re crazy. I think that you have a passion for your work that is often times blinding because of it’s intensity. I think that you scare people because you are so rooted in your beliefs that while most of us are struggling to find out what we’re going to have for lunch, you’ve already planned dinner. Do you get what I mean? You’re a brilliant man, Fox Mulder, maybe even a genius, but God help anyone who gets in your way. Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I wasn’t on your side… the thought scares me, Mulder. And I think that people are afraid. Not of you, but of the things you say. Isn’t it easier to believe a lie—that the government care about us, and doesn’t bug our phones? No one wants to consider that the government are the ones we should be afraid of and that some of the things that go bump in the night might actually be real."

Mulder sits in awe of her, because her tone is sincere, and her face is pulled into one of deep contemplation. Her cheeks are flushed, and she seeks eye contact with him. He understands that she is speaking from her heart, and he is unsure of what to think because what she is saying is true, but not what he expected to hear from her.

"Do I scare you?"

"Mulder—"

"No, Scully, do I really scare you?"

She looks down at her hands, because she is unsure herself.

"No." She says finally, after a long pause. She glances up at him, but she can tell he isn’t satisfied with her answer, so she continues, "But there were a couple of times, you made me worry."

"Like when?"

"Remember that weekend with that beast woman? I had to pick you up from jail. There was that other time at Ellens Air Base… that time in Alaska…"

"Okay, I’ve had my moments… but thank you for being honest, and putting up with my shit. I’m sorry if… I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to hurt you or make you scared. I don’t always think when I speak. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a genius, but I’m flattered you think so. …do you still want me to take you home?" He asks, and she smiles, and shakes her head.

"Let’s get dinner."


End file.
